


we are so voracious for love

by swevery



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:13:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26026261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swevery/pseuds/swevery
Summary: “what are standard sleepover conversations?”“what do you want to talk about?”ayda was quiet for a moment, before sighing loudly. “you know that’s not a fair question.”
Relationships: Ayda Aguefort/Figueroth Faeth
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	we are so voracious for love

**Author's Note:**

> [i am only on episode 11 i just had to get this out so if any of this becomes irrelevant in future episodes i've decided that fig/ayda sleepover time is more important than the fh plot + also i did not use all the dialogue straight from the scene]

“sorry, part of the slumber party is that you stay up late talking.”

for a moment, fig considered letting the other girl sleep. ayda looked serene at last now that they were out of the heat of the battle and in relative safety, her eyelashes brushing against her skin as her eyes fluttered shut. 

she took that moment to properly look at ayda for the first time since leaving leviathan.

the girl had always been entrancing to fig, that was never a question in her mind. she couldn’t work out exactly which of ayda’s features led her to that conclusion, but there wasn’t a single one she’d mark down as anything other than captivatingly beautiful. her hair burned bright, forcing fig to keep her eyes on the taller girl as it cast warm highlights against her skin. her wings, now gathered around her body, let out a soft glow into the air around them and fig had to resist the urge to lean into it like she wanted to. even though ayda said she could lead on the physical contact, she didn’t want to push too far. 

she was _herself_ this time, there was no one else’s face to hide behind. if she messed up, it would be as figueroth faeth and the first girl who maybe, possibly liked her for _her_ would be scared off.

there was no way she was letting that happen.

“fantastic. i got that wrong out of the gate but now i know and i won’t make that mistake again.”

she turned to her side, smiling. “first we have to stay up for a while”

“great, fantastic. i love that.”

ayda looked like she wanted literally _anything_ else in any of the universes to happen. fig wanted to reach out, reassure her that no matter what she said, she wouldn’t mess up. fig just wanted to her her talk. 

“look, ayd - ”

“should i - ” they started at the same time.

fig laughed softly. “you go first.”

“what are standard sleepover conversations?” ayda turned in the moon haven to match her, eyes wide.

ayda in her pyjamas was a sight that almost instinctively dried the moisture in fig’s mouth out. as she laid next to the other girl, her vest bunching up to reveal a warm brown tidal wave of skin, it sent fig’s eyes spinning to look anywhere else in the room. 

it reminded her of the first, and only, friend she’d had before meeting the bad kids. in fairness, _friend_ was a strong word to use for a neighbour that was forced to be in her apartment once a week. it didn’t matter how many parties she went to or how many extracurriculars she led, fig couldn’t call the people that stuck around her her friends, not considering how easily they left her. fig couldn’t help but remember that time with bittersweet feelings, missing how much simpler it was before her horns had grown in. though, however simple they were, fig wouldn’t change the life she’d fought for for all the peace and safety in the world.

one day her neighbour had come over and sat behind her, hips pushed forward to lean against her own back, breath hot on fig’s neck neck. fig willed her cheeks not to darken, for her body not to betray her cold exterior with a shiver. the orcish girl had ran her fingers through fig’s hair and she wondered now if she had simply not noticed or purposefully avoided the small nubs on either side of her forehead, refusing to comment for the sake of politeness. fig wasn’t sure if she’d even notice if she had, too lost in the smell of her perfume drifting past her.

lying next to ayda then was like that, only she was sure she was blushing this time.

“what do you want to talk about?”

ayda was quiet for a moment, before sighing loudly. “you know that’s not a fair question.”

“hm. how are you finding things since leaving your library?”

“i’ve left my library before. this is not the first time.”

“yeah, but not this far, right? you usually stick around leviathan.” fig wondered if that was the same for all of the past-aydas, or if they had travelled, perhaps even to solace, before returning home to their library.

“i typically journey between the compass points library and the gold gardens, though i prefer it when garthy comes to me.”

“oh! yes, you two are friends, right? you and… garthy.”

ayda’s brow furrowed. fig clenched her own hand tightly to remind herself not to reach out unexpectedly. _you’re you, remember? you can’t fuck this up._

“has my friend done something to offend you?”

“wha - garty? no. i mean, not _them_ in particular. it was more of a… collective effort.”

“collective effort? i’m not sure i know what you mean.”

fig wished, in that moment, that someone would come in and hand her a shovel to at least make the hole she was digging that slightest bit smoother. no one did. 

she didn’t want to think about that night. beyond the uncomfortable realisation that her mother and _sex_ existed in the same plane of existence, fig had to come to terms, once again, with the fact that her mother wasn’t the woman she’d created in her head. perhaps she never would be.

“ayda, can i ask you a question?”

she gave a sharp nod, her bottom lip poking out ever so lightly as she did so. “i’ll do my best to give you a satisfactory answer.”

“do you think a person can do bad things and still be a good person?”

fig thought she could hear the sounds of fabian’s heavy footsteps outside with how quiet the room had become. it was only when she began stuttering out excuses to leave that ayda replied.

“i think that this world is difficult to live in. even through all the notes i’ve collected across all of my lives, i’m yet to find a way to live that is universally good. someone, somewhere, will always hate me for what i do.” fig watched as she took a deep breath. “is there a universal good and a universal bad? i don’t know. i don’t think so. but if the people you love, your… friends,” she said, looking to fig for confirmation as though she might have changed her mind, “can forgive you, then that’s what i think is important.”

fig didn’t answer. her gaze was trained on a spot behind ayda’s wings.

“was that wrong?”

there was another moment still before fig responded. “no,” she sighed. “it wasn’t wrong.”

“i think you’re a good person, fig. and even if you weren’t, i’d still like you.”

the earnestness in ayda’s voice managed to drag fig’s thoughts away from her mother only a few rooms away. her gaze met ayda’s for a moment and then it was immediately shifted away.

“i’d still like you too, ayda.” she knew her cheeks were ablaze now. “i guess it’s right for a rockstar to have mummy issues, right?”

_this definitely wasn’t good sleepover material_ , the rational side of fig’s brain told her.

“if you have issues with your mother, does that mean i have… fatherly issues?”

“i would… from what i’ve seen, almost definitely go with yes.”

“oh.” 

ayda’s hair flared up in an extravagant display as she seemed to sink into herself, wings curving closer around her. fig remembered how she had reacted upon seeing her disguised as her father earlier that day, the distress in her voice. she knew that ridding herself of the guilt she felt would be a lot harder than simply having a friend forgive her, even if that friend was ayda aguefort. 

“i’m sorry that i disguised myself as him today. i’m not that good at thinking things through, i should have thought about how that would have affected you.”

“it was important to the task at hand. i usually like your disguises, i just drew the short straw this time”

“you were important to the task at hand.”

“in the grand scheme of eve - ”

“please, ayda, just let me apologise. it isn’t very punk rock to be a dick to your friends, even if it has become a habit.”

ayda was silent for a moment, then nodded.

“do you want to talk about him? your father?”

fig cursed herself, watching as the other girl tensed in front of her. as soon as arthur aguefort gave her the creature she was promised, she would curse the man for abandoning a girl who, more than anything, deserved to be showered in as much love as possible. her own heart ached at the thought of losing gilear or… gorthalax. she clenched her eyes tightly, _not now. don’t think about him now._

the furrow in the half-phoenix girl’s brow became more prominent as the silence continued and fig reached up before she could talk herself out of it. her hand moved slowly, giving ayda enough time to tell her to stop if she didn’t want to be touched, but the hand batting her own away didn’t come.

fig’s touch was gentler than she thought was capable. she decided that ayda deserved someone to be gentle with her. with a single thumb, she brushed away the creases between her flaming brows, thankful for the heat for covering up the warmth rising in her. ayda froze and then seemed to relax tentatively into the touch, letting her eyes fall shut.

“this is standard sleepover behaviour?” her voice was shaky - fig couldn’t help the spark of pride that shot through her as she realised _she_ was the one to do that to the girl. 

“if you want it to be. we get to decide what standard sleepover behaviour is. if you want, we can lay here and talking about nothing,” ayda echoed the sentiment, as though the concept was foreign to her, “or we can go and show up fabian and his weird elven dances outside. whatever you want.”

“i don’t think i’d like to talk about my father.” fig’s hand slid down, cupping her cheek. she nodded. “he was not a great dad.”

“yeah. he might just be a bad dad forever.”

_what the fuck did she say that for?_ ayda’s face fell. fig cursed herself for opening her mouth at all - how did she never learn? she resisted the urge to find her skateboard and leave kei lumennura entirely, instead stumbling over herself to try and reassure ayda, telling her that even if she didn’t have her father, she would find someone who loves her the way she deserves to be loved.

“what exactly have i done that means i _deserve_ love?”

fig was pretty sure she _heard_ her heart break in that moment. “i know you’re all about transactions and i don’t want to diminish that, but you don’t have to _do_ something to deserve it. you just do.”

“hm. a truly odd concept. to deserve something, but not have done anything to be worthy of it.”

“you love your friend, don’t you? garthy?”

there was a pause. “immensely. though they have done lots to deserve that love.”

“but you would love them even if they hadn’t, wouldn’t you?”

“i suppose i see your point.” she turned back to fig from where she had been looking up at the ceiling, eyes fixed in concentration. “and you think i deserve that love from my… friends?”

“yes.”

“and you’re my transitive best friend.”

fig smiled warmly, the corners of her eyes scrunching up as she did so. “that’s right, ayda.”

* * *

“i just hit them?”

ayda looked down cautiously at the bass guitar. it looked tiny clutched in ayda’s much larger form, but fig wouldn’t trade the sight of something so precious to her in the hands of the girl she liked. or the opportunity to stare at ayda’s hands, strong and capable, without being caught.

“you don’t hit it necessarily. brush your fingers against the strings here.”

she still didn’t look convinced.

“what if it doesn't sound good?”

“then it doesn’t sound good.”

fig thought it was a crime that ayda had grown up with a library and a wealth of knowledge entrusted to her, but she hadn’t even seen a guitar before, let alone had access to one. in another life, fig hoped she had met ayda as a child. they could have taught each other.

it was much later then, with the two huddled together over the base guitar that was only illuminated thanks to the light radiating off ayda. fig appreciated the low light as it gave her the opportunity for her eyes to drag over the taller girl without being noticed. her lips turned up into a smile as she realised ayda had tucked her talons into custom-made slippers, soft and fuzzy. when fig asked about them, ayda simply said that she liked to be comfortable. it was a mindset fig could respect.

those slippers were tucked over one another as ayda cradled the instrument, reaching a hand down to brush against the strings. her touch was gentle at first, only letting a whisper of a sound out, but eventually she became more confident with the guitar, filling the room with an amalgamation of different notes, along with fig’s giddy laughter. 

“is this right?”

“it’s perfect! she exclaimed. “keep going.”

ayda shifted. “will you teach me one of your songs? i regret to say that i haven’t heard any.”

“yes!” she shot up onto her knees. “which one would you like? there’s _my deputy headteacher’s a dragon and i forgot my homework_ or maybe _madness in my mind_? that’s a real crowd pleaser.”

the feeling of the crowd yelling her lyrics back to her _almost_ compared to the way it felt with ayda’s flaming eyes on her.

“those names are… incredibly confusing to me, but i’d like to learn your favourite.”

she made her way behind ayda in an attempt to guide her hands through the chords, only to be met with the wide expanse of ayda’s wings. it took a long moment of shuffling around, but eventually they managed to find an angle where fig could rest her chin on the taller girl’s shoulder to look down at the positioning of her fingers while one arm reached around to guide her hands to the right frets, the other cupping her fingers over the strings. 

they were warm, but fig couldn’t tell if that was from her playing the bass guitar or being so close to another person. she prayed that her own weren’t noticeably sweaty.

“am i - is this okay?” ayda didn’t reply, biting down on her bottom lip instead, but she nodded in agreement. “okay, keep your index finger there.” 

she swallowed and hoped to _anyone_ that was listening that her voice wouldn’t shake.

* * *

“it’s quite loud.”

fig perked up, eyes widening. she pulled away, not wanting to hurt ayda’s wings as she gestured wildly. “exactly! you should hear it when we’re doing a show! it’s even better all hooked up, my ears are always ringing for _hours_ afterwards.”

it was only then that fig realised, while seemingly endeared by her outburst, ayda didn’t seem to match her enthusiasm for its volume.

“or… we could always find something quieter! whatever you want.”

ayda let out a content sigh, placing the bass guitar to the side. her feathers audibly rustled as she moved and fig wondered what it would be like to reach out and touch them, rather than just have her back pressed against them, separated by layers of cursed material. she had noticed ayda running her fingertips along them as they’d spoken throughout the night.

“aren’t you exhausted after that battle? you did a lot of draining spells.”

“you get used to it. between the touring and the…” _stop talking, fig._ “and the nightmares. being tired is almost second nature by now.”

“you won’t have any nightmares tonight.” her voice was firm.

“how do you know?”

“i won’t let them happen.”

despite herself, fig found that she trusted in ayda’s words. she laid back with the other girl, closer than they were earlier in the night. this time, the tips of ayda’s wings brushed against her shoulders, sending a shiver down her spine. 

“this was nice. sleepovers are something i haven’t experienced before, but i hope i get to again.” 

fig went to agree, but was cut off by the feeling of ayda’s hand reaching for hers. it was tentative at first, only dusting across her palm, but fig clasped her hand in her own. she regarded ayda for a moment, noticing the signs of exhaustion written across her face and squeezed down comfortingly.

“will you stay in the morning?” fig asked, her voice heavy.

“if it will please you, i will.”

she hummed. “good night, ayda.”

“good night, fig faeth.”

before sleep claimed her, she sent a silent thank you to whoever blessed her with resistance to fire, allowing her to hold onto ayda’s warming hand throughout the night.

**Author's Note:**

> ayda. ayda aguefort. be my wife.
> 
> no thoughts. only fig/ayda. maybe lesbian aelwen story.


End file.
